


Favorite.

by henriqua



Series: DJ Otabek [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), DJ Otabek Altin, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 02:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9695405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriqua/pseuds/henriqua
Summary: People sing and dance to the music, there's a faint smell of alcohol in the air and Yuri realizes he might be in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't supposed to write anything for Valentine's Day, but DJ Otabek took over my life.
> 
> Dedicated to [Rachel](http://tokiyasstar.tumblr.com/) for sharing my love for this pairing and basically coming up with the plot of this story. Thank you, darling, for being the best ♡

The bouncer in front of the club takes a hard look of Yuri's ID, then moves his eyes on the blond, and then back on the card in his hand. Yuri knows he looks younger than he actually is, but the man at least twice his size has spent a good amount of time observing his ID.  
  
The man squints his eyes and for a moment Yuri wants to punch him.  
  
”Your name sounds _really_ familiar,” the man says in broken Russian and Yuri blinks, his mind totally empty of any good encounters.  
  
”Have fun figuring out where you've heard it,” Yuri says when he snatches his ID from the man and escapes inside the club. He sighs in relief and slips the card inside his wallet, the strong bass of the music playing echoing deeply in his bones.  
  
It takes a moment from Yuri's eyes to get adjusted to the dark and take in his surroundings. He doesn't go out much, he doesn't exactly have the time, and the small Russian bars he has visited are nothing compared to the club around him. The ceiling is high, colorful lights from the dance floor dyeing it in shades of greens and reds. The bar counter is long and surrounded by people talking in a language Yuri doesn't quite understand.  
  
Yuri ignores the counter and makes his way through the crowd, walks down a small staircase and is momentarily hit deaf by the loud music. People are swaying around him, most of them holding glasses in their hands, and a trio of boys around Yuri's age scream the lyrics of the song playing from the top of their lungs. Yuri himself doesn't recognize the song, and even though it does have a catchy beat he continues his quest of walking across the dance floor without getting squeezed to death.  
  
He reaches the metallic staircase after bumping into several people and muttering at least 20 apologies that no one could hear over the booming music anyway. The black paint on the railing is chipped and the steps rattle under Yuri's feet when he makes his way onto the balcony. Tall, round tables have been scattered around the space, most of them full of glasses, both empty and full. There isn't as much people on the balcony as there was downstairs but it's still somewhat crowded, groups of people gathered around the tables.  
  
Yuri leans on the balcony's railing and looks down: the dance floor is so full it's impossible to see the floor itself, and the view to the stage on the other end of the dance floor is perfect from his spot on the balcony. The current DJ jumps behind his turntables, brown hair messy from all the dancing, and Yuri gets his phone out of the pocket of his jacket to check the time.  
  
Five minutes.  
  
When Yuri found out Otabek did DJing on his free time, he was stunned. He knew his best friend loved music, he didn't leave the house without his headphones and most of the time he walked around with them on his head, but for some reason Yuri had still been surprised by Otabek's hobby. Otabek himself kept saying it was nothing, that he liked making playlists and doing remixes of his favorite songs on his computer, and when one of his friends wanted to teach him the basics of DJing, he had seen no reason to say no. He has been playing in popular clubs in Almaty outside the competitive season for a couple of years now, yet he still insists it's only something he does for fun.  
  
It's Yuri's first time to hear Otabek playing live, but it's not his first time hearing Otabek _play_. When they're both busy with practice for upcoming competitions Otabek sends Yuri links of remixes or playlists he has been working on, and every now and then Yuri even gets private shows played through video calls or audio messages.  
  
So yes, Yuri knows Otabek is talented, and he keeps checking the time every 40 seconds. He feels electric, something about the atmosphere of the club and the fact that Otabek's playing will definitely sound so much better in a huge location with professional sound system making him restless.  
  
_To: Beka_  
_Good luck!! Can't wait to see (and hear) you ; >_  
  
_From: Beka_  
_You're making me nervous..._  
  
Yuri laughs at the message and pockets his phone. When Otabek had informed him about his first gig being right after Yuri's 21st birthday, Yuri had taken the weekend off from practice and booked flights to Kazakhstan. Yakov hadn't exactly been pleased but Yuri wasn't too concerned about that – the coach had his hands full with other top skaters anyway.  
  
The DJ with brown hair thanks the people on the dance floor, loud cheers and applause sending him off. Something in Yuri's chest twists and turns when he sees a figure walking behind the turntables. The music changes into a cheerful, up-tempo remix of the same song and people cheer again, the lights dancing around the club creating almost psychedelic patterns on their faces.  
  
Yuri recognizes the voice greeting the crowd (or, at least that's what Yuri thinks it does – he still hasn't mastered the language) and for a second he's hit speechless. He can't see every detail from his spot on the balcony but every time the lights sweep over the stage he catches glimpses of his friend; his dark hair, black, bulky headphones around his neck, a shirt that flatters his upper body following the same color scheme he seems to be sporting all year round.  
  
Yuri wants to close his eyes and enjoy the music Otabek definitely works hard for but he simply _can't_.  
  
Yuri is painfully aware his friend is attractive, has been all the years they have known each other. He's in good shape because he's a professional figure skater, and Yuri happens to know his training regimen is tougher than the Russian skaters' – and the Russians' regimen is nothing to laugh at. The fact that Otabek also happens to be blessed with a really nice face is obviously just a nice little addition to the equation.  
  
Yuri is also painfully aware of the small, budding crush he has had on Otabek since he was 15. At first it was just childish, giddy excitement of having a friend he got so well along with, but slowly, year after year, Yuri realized the feelings he felt towards Otabek weren't only platonic. They are close, closer than best friends usually are, but Yuri knows daydreaming of how it would feel like to kiss his best friend isn't exactly considered 'just friendship'.  
  
Yuri has been trying his best at ignoring his feelings and stuffing them to the darkest, farthest corner of his mind but seeing Otabek standing on the stage, creating music with a small, pleased smile on his face makes Yuri feel helpless. People sing and dance to the music, there's a faint smell of alcohol in the air and Yuri realizes he might be in love.  
  
Yuri recognizes bunch of songs and remixes Otabek has played or sent to him from the night's set. Yuri listens without moving a muscle, his eyes fixated on Otabek. When he ends the set with thanking the crowd and wishing them good night, Yuri doesn't want him to leave the stage. He's craving for more, more to hear and more to see.  
  
The last DJ of the night starts her set when Yuri blinks and returns to the reality. He takes a deep breath, feeling a hot blush on his face even though he didn't even dance, and leaves the balcony. He makes his way through the club again, most of the other celebrators now drunker than when he arrived, and steps outside to the chilly night. Yuri leans against the wall of the building and sighs deeply, closes his eyes and tries to calm his frantically beating heart. He's supposed to meet Otabek and spend the night at his place but suddenly Yuri wants to go home, curl in his bed and mentally scream at himself for letting his feelings towards his best friend turn into something he can never turn around again.  
  
”Tired?” Yuri opens his eyes, a slow smile making its way on his face upon hearing the familiar voice. He shrugs, trying to cover the fact he is basically in a middle of a crisis.  
  
”Kinda, the time difference always gets me,” he says and takes a look at Otabek. He has thrown a black leather jacket over the shirt he wore on the stage, and there's smudged eyeliner on the outer corners of his eyes.  
  
Something tightens in the bottom of Yuri's stomach at the sight of the dark makeup and he coughs, lowering his gaze. Fortunately Otabek is too busy with zipping his jacket up to see the crimson blossoming on Yuri's cheeks. ”Yeah, I getcha. The bike's this way.”  
  
Yuri follows Otabek to a nearby parking lot and takes the helmet he's handed to. He has ridden on Otabek's motorbike so many times he acts on auto-pilot, settling himself behind the older man and wrapping his arms around his waist before even realizing how close they are. The proximity of their bodies has never bothered Yuri before and he wants to kick himself for suddenly overthinking everything.  
  
”Was Yakov mad to you for taking a couple days off?” Otabek asks when he looks for his keys.  
  
”A little. There's this 14-year-old he's been coaching for a year now and I think giving the whole rink to him for a weekend does good for his self-confidence. The boy's, not Yakov's – _his_ self-confidence has gone through the roof decades ago,” Yuri says and Otabek huffs out a small laugh. He thrusts the key in the ignition and starts the bike, and Yuri rests his head against Otabek's back. He still doesn't think motorbikes are his favorite form of transportation, and Otabek might be a little blind to the speed.  
  
The dark city lit up by yellow and orange street lights passes by when they drive through it, the familiar streets Yuri has walked on with Otabek looking totally different in the dark. It's late enough for the traffic to be almost non-existent, and Otabek's driving is wilder than ever before. Yuri squeezes his eyes shut when they approach a steep curve and holds fistfuls of Otabek's jacket – they clear the curve without problems but Yuri swears Otabek is taking all the risks on purpose.  
  
They park in front of the apartment building Otabek lives in and Yuri is glad to have his feet back on steady ground again. He lets the other man lead him to the elevator and all the way to the 6th floor, and after Yuri gets rid of his shoes he heads straight to Otabek's bedroom and throws himself on the bed.  
  
”That tired?” Yuri can hear the laugh in Otabek's voice and he rolls on his side, watching how Otabek takes his jacket off and stretches his arms over his head.  
  
”Not tired, sick. You drive like a madman,” he pouts and Otabek laughs, warm and happy, and the sound makes Yuri bite the inside of his cheek.  
  
”Sorry, sorry, my bad. Just tried to make sure we'll be home before it's princesses' bed time.” Yuri nonchalantly flips Otabek off and the older man laughs again, apologizing with sparkles of amusement in his eyes.  
  
”If all the people dancing to your DJing knew you're such a bully they would definitely leave on the second you get on the stage, no matter how nice your sets are,” Yuri says, faking an offended tone. He sits up and takes his own jacket off, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor.  
  
”You think my DJing is nice?”  
  
”Um, yeah?” Yuri rolls his eyes at Otabek who sits next to him on the bed, crossing his legs. ”Isn't that what I've been saying this whole time? Just that it sounded even better live.”  
  
”Thanks, Yura. I really appreciate you coming all the way here for me,” Otabek says and gives a gentle smile to the blond. Yuri only shrugs, unable to meet the coppery eyes.  
  
”It's not a big deal. I know you'd do the same for me.” Otabek next to him nods, twice. ”And, as I said, it was nice to hear you do your thing where it's meant to be done. I really liked how the songs went so well with each other. Do you have the playlist saved?”  
  
”Yeah, do you want me to send it to you?” Yuri nods and Otabek takes his phone, tapping the screen. Yuri hears his own phone ding in the pocket of the jacket that's on the floor, and he makes a mental note to check his download requests later. He takes a glance of the phone in Otabek's hand, the screen full of links to the playlists Otabek often listens to. Most of the titles are familiar to Yuri, collections of songs Otabek has shared with him earlier.  
  
Yuri raises his brows in question when his eyes catch a playlist he has never seen before. He places his hand on Otabek's arm to stop his scrolling and points at the screen. ”What's that?”  
  
”Oh. That. It's a playlist.”  
  
”Wow, Sherlock, aren't you sharp. You've never played it to me, right?” Otabek shakes his head and hovers his thumb on top of the playlist named _Favorite_. Yuri nudges him and Otabek clicks the link open, a list of song titles appearing on the screen.  
  
”You wanna listen to it now? With me?” There's something weird in Otabek's tone, but Yuri can't put his finger on it. Instead he simply nods and watches his friend plug in a pair of in-ear headphones, taking the left one to himself and offering the right one to Yuri (it's already late and Yuri wants to mention how thoughtful Otabek is when it comes to his neighbors and not disturbing their sleep but he stays silent).  
  
The first song is gentle and soft, starting with a sad piano melody. The lyrics are in English but Yuri understands them anyway, slightly baffled by the style of the song – Otabek is usually a fan of up-beat hip hop songs or hard rock, not songs about unrequited love. It's still a good song, beautiful and the singer's voice is pleasant to listen to.  
  
Otabek doesn't say anything during the song, only takes a glance of Yuri when it ends.  
  
”Who would've guessed you had a soft side,” he teases and Otabek rolls his eyes when the next song starts.  
  
The next song is a happier one, having catchier rhythm and more cheerful lyrics – it reminds Yuri of summer. He feels like dancing when the song hits its last chorus, and that's the exact moment when he realizes the song is about love as well. It's more positive one than the first one, but it still confuses the blond since Otabek's usual choice of music talks about money and partying more often than affection.  
  
The third song has replaced real instruments with machine-like sounds and a fast tempo, but the singer has a really soothing voice. Otabek follows the song's rhythm by tapping his fingers against his knee, his eyes on the screen of his phone. Yuri looks at him and tilts his head, frowning. Otabek senses his staring and raises his gaze, meeting the blond's eyes.  
  
”What?”  
  
”All of these are about love.”  
  
”There's a lot of love songs in this world.”  
  
”Well, yeah, but they don't usually make it on your playlists.” Otabek's smile is small and tense when he points at the name of the playlist.  
  
”See? _Favorite_.”  
  
”So... these are your favorite songs?” Yuri asks, doubtful. He knows Otabek's favorite songs, he knows the older man changes his favorite song weekly but it's always something crazy with a heavy bassline, not something like the songs they're currently listening to.  
  
Otabek shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh. ”No. They're songs that remind me of my favorite person.” Yuri's frown deepens and there's a beat of silence before Otabek opens his mouth again. ”They remind me of you.”  
  
”Oh?” Yuri says, suddenly forgetting how to form coherent thoughts. ”Oh.”  
  
Otabek worries his lower lip with his teeth and turns his gaze back down, scrolling up and down on his phone. Yuri follows his fingers and realizes they're shaking.  
  
”I'm sorry, I– I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Just forget what I said. It's already late, we should probably head to–”  
  
”These songs remind you of me? Is that how you feel about me?” Yuri interrupts Otabek's nervous rambling, making him snap his attention back on Yuri. ”Do you feel the same about me as this singer feels about this– this girl he's singing about?”  
  
Otabek swallows, the air thick between them. Yuri's heart is beating so fast he has troubles feeling it and his ears are filled with a gentle voice singing about love that makes one smile and so happy they feel dizzy.  
  
”Yeah,” Otabek finally whispers, his eyes locked with Yuri's own. The word is silent, not more than a breath of air, but somehow it almost knocks Yuri out of his mind. He laughs nervously, the only thing he's capable of doing when his mind is running faster than he ever could, and feels a foreign tingle in the tips of his fingers.  
  
”Oh,” Yuri says, his voice barely louder than Otabek's.  
  
”Oh? So you're... fine with it?” Otabek asks, his eyes carefully studying Yuri's expressions. The blond really wants to look away but there's something in the dark eyes that captivates him, making it impossible to tear his gaze elsewhere.  
  
”More than fine,” Yuri hears himself saying, the tingle spreading from his fingers to the back of his neck. He bites his lip, his heart stammering against his ribs, and lets his eyes slide down to take a look of Otabek's lips before he realizes what he's doing.  
  
Yuri snaps his focus back on Otabek's eyes but the older man had caught his wandering attention. Yuri holds his breath when Otabek leans closer, carefully and slowly as if he's waiting for Yuri to run away, and feels how their fingertips brush against each other. They're so close Otabek's breathing ghosts over Yuri's lips and the blond can't handle it – he closes the last inches between their mouths himself, surprising both of them.  
  
Otabek's lips are soft against Yuri's, the feeling better than Yuri has ever imagined in his never-ending daydreams. He closes his eyes when Otabek presses more firmly against him, lacing their fingers together on the bed. A small, disappointed noise escapes from Yuri's throat when the contact breaks, Otabek pulling slightly away.  
  
”Yuri...”  
  
”More. Please,” the blond demands and wraps the fingers of his free hand around the hem of the older man's shirt. Yuri leans in for a second kiss, pressing Otabek's smile against his lips. A hand combs through his hair and settles behind his neck, making him let out a content sigh. Otabek takes advantage of Yuri's actions and runs his tongue along the younger man's bottom lip, making them both shiver at the sensation. Otabek's mouth is hot and the slick slide of their tongues against each other makes Yuri's head spin, his skin pleasantly burning under Otabek's fingers.  
  
They're both out of breath when they break the kiss, an identical blushes on their faces. Yuri's mind slowly catches up with everything he just experienced and his senses come back alive; the warmth of Otabek's hand on his and the happy tune the phone between them plays reaching his consciousness with a little help from the headphones.  
  
Yuri chuckles, something he rarely does, and places his hand on Otabek's cheek.  
  
”Out of all the playlists you've sent to me, I think this one is my favorite.”

**Author's Note:**

> can't wait for Otayuri week 2017 tbh
> 
> [tumblr](http://sleepyams.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/vilmahenriika)


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